


Senna Adaar and the Nobles of the Winter Palace

by Trashatacular



Series: Part-Time Lover, Full-Time Friend [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Dragon Age Quest: Wicked Eyes and Wicked Hearts, F/M, The Winter Palace (Dragon Age), basically just senna adaar trying not to go fucking nuts at the Winter Palace, crackfic, kind of ?, nobles being unknowingly racist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-12
Updated: 2016-06-12
Packaged: 2018-07-14 14:22:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7175480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trashatacular/pseuds/Trashatacular
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Qunari aren't very respected in Orlesian society, much less the Winter Palace. This is a lesson Senna knows well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Senna Adaar and the Nobles of the Winter Palace

As Senna walked into the ballroom of the Winter Palace, she could almost count every noble’s face that fell and she knew Iron Bull felt the air tense. Sera sniggered, but Senna stayed silent as she took in the generous height of the ceilings and the lack of drapes in the center of the room. The gilded railings were ultimately useless; they were just for show, they had no actual support. The guards were just as useless; sure, they looked professional but they would never stand against assassins. The nobles were unfit for any kind of battle in their overdone attire and heavy accessories. It was very clear to her that they relied too much on their fancy chevaliers to do their dirty work that they never stopped to worry about what would happen if said chevaliers weren’t present. The entire palace was an unstable armoire of valuables; one tap and all the pretty little jewels would be crushed. 

When the announcer didn’t say her name, she shot him a glance, raising an eyebrow. He startled, then nervously began to announce them as they strode - more like marched - to the bottom of the stairs to meet Empress Celene. Senna internally rolled her eyes at the grand, overdone dress of the empress; how did she become so powerful in such an impractical outfit? More importantly, how did she move anywhere in that incredibly constricting dress? And the mask was no help either; it seemed everything in Orlais was made for decoration. She had only just started to tune everyone out when the empress began to address her. 

“Lady Inquisitor, we welcome you to the Winter Palace,” the lilting Orlesian accent never failed to annoy her mildly. Still, she maintained a calm demeanor and participated in The Game and bowed. “Allow us to introduce our cousin, the Grand Duchess of Lydes, without whom this gathering would never have been possible.”

“What an unexpected pleasure. I was not aware the Inquisition would be part of our festivities,” The Duchess’ voice didn’t sound surprised at all. Senna gave her a smile nonetheless. “We will certainly speak later, Inquisitor.”

“Your arrival at court is like a cool wind on a summer’s day.” the Empress began to address her once more. 

“I am delighted to be here, Your Majesty.” Just as she practiced.

“We have heard much of your exploits, Inquisitor. They have made grand tales for long evenings. How do you find Halamshiral?” Celene asked. Whether or not she wanted a genuine answer, Senna fought the urge to tell her it was indefensible and a castle made of wasted gold. 

“I’ve never seen anything to equal the Winter Palace.” Which wasn’t a complete lie; she had never seen anything so weak, so vulnerable and so much like a death trap equal to the Winter Palace. 

“We hope you will find the time to take in some of its beauties. Feel free to enjoy the pleasures of the ballroom, Inquisitor. We look forward to watching you dance.” she responded, though it hinted at something else. Senna bowed, then waited for the Empress to walk away before going to find Bull.

 

“Hey, Boss-”

“Where’s the alcohol?” she demanded as soon as she was close enough to him.

“It’s Orlais. The closest thing they have is watered down perfume,” Bull reminded her. She rolled her eyes, then leaned against the wall with her arms folded across her chest. “‘S not so bad, Boss. They have little...what’s the word for it? They’re like little pastries…?” He looked at her for help.

“Scones?” she raised an eyebrow.

“Softer.” 

“Cookies.”

“That’s the word. Wish we had those in the Qun, y’know?” he responded, almost wistfully.

“It’d have made it harder to leave, what with the ‘Qunari Perfectionism.’” She pointed out. He nodded, scanning the nobles around them. A small gaggle of nobles standing somewhat close to them and obnoxiously talking about them kept glancing their way, before they began to move as a herd to their direction. Bull muttered a low ‘here we go’ under his breath before putting on a smile, and Senna did the same as she straightened up.

“Hello, Lady Inquisitor.” A man in a mask and a rather floppy hat stared up at her.

“How do you do, sir?” she bowed to him slightly. 

“Such manners! They are rather uncommon among your kind.” he smiled at her naively. She didn’t miss his gaze flickering to Bull nervously. 

“Forgive my...ignorance, but do you mean the Qunari or the Tal-Vashoth?” she asked for clarification, clasping her hands behind her.

“Pardon?” he raised an eyebrow.

“I apologize for being unclear, but you had said ‘your kind’, and I didn’t recognize whether you meant the Qunari or the Tal-Vashoth.” she replied. He gave her a blank stare for a moment, trying to digest what she said. He chuckled nervously, looking around at his small group for help.

“Pardon us, Lady Inquisitor, but what is the difference?” a woman wrung her gloved hands anxiously. Senna looked at Bull and for a moment, she felt her soul leave her body and ascend into the Fade, and scream into the remnants of the Black City for several moments before coming back down. 

“Basra vashedan. Ebadim vashedan basra, ebra-hissal eva-lok defransdim, no?” she spoke daintily and politely to Bull, as if they were asking about the weather. The nobles seemed to be put at ease at the tone of her voice. Bull smiled back at her knowingly and matched her tone.

“Ebadim imekari. Ebadim kabethari.” He shrugged and smiled. She chuckled, then turned back to them.

“Pardon my impoliteness, I had to clarify with my friend here for a moment. Qunari are people of the Qun, while Tal-Vashoth are people who reject the Qun.” she responded.

“Ah, thank you for clarifying, Lady Inquisitor. If I may ask, which are you?” the male noble asked. She weighed her options carefully; on the one hand, she could say she’s Qunari, but they could think that the Inquisition is endorsed by the Qunari and cause a mess. On the other hand, she could tell the truth, but there is a very supported negative connotation with the Tal-Vashoth that it might be dangerous for her and the Inquisition. 

“I am Kossith. It is a term for the people of the Qunari race, but not of the religion.” Which wasn’t a technical lie, just not the full truth. The nobles ate it up though, like dathrasi, they enjoyed this small cultural lesson.

“We must go now, Lady Inquisitor, but it was a pleasure to meet you and be educated. Enjoy the evening.” the noble smiled at her, bowing slightly. She returned the favor, smiling back at him as they began to walk back to their spot across the room.

“What lovely oxmen!” she overheard one of them say cheerfully. She turned to Bull, still smiling but gritting her teeth and fire in her eyes.

“If ever there was a better time to blow this place up, I have yet to see it.” she said in a low voice.

“They’re humans, kadan. More specifically, Orlesian. They don’t know any better.” he shrugged.

“I’m aware. It doesn’t stop me from being frustrated though,” she responded. “I’ll just make a conscious effort to run into all the drapes and doorways so these bas don’t get a break. We’ll speak later.” she winked at him, brushing his hand as she walked by. Bull nodded, watching her hips sway as she walked away from him.

**Author's Note:**

> Basra vashedan. Ebadim vashedan basra, ebra-hissal eva-lok defransdim, no? - "Fucking humans. Those shitty humans can go suck my ass." (or something along the lines of doing something explicit with genitals)
> 
> Ebadim imekari. Ebadim kabethari. - "They're like children. They need to be educated." (technically: they are children, they are simple beings. 
> 
> basically this entire fic was just how i think my inquisitor felt during the entirety of the Winter Palace because 9 times out of 10 all you heard was "wow get a look at those oxmen!" like the nobles were steve fuckin irwin and my inquisitor was a wild croc .
> 
> my tumblr: http://trashatacular.tumblr.com/


End file.
